


Traitor

by CryloRen_IsAtItAgain



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Acceptance, Blood, Hux is Not Nice, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, No Lube, Rape, Redeemed Ben Solo, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, bloody nose, face fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-20 12:49:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15534597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CryloRen_IsAtItAgain/pseuds/CryloRen_IsAtItAgain
Summary: Ben Solo is a traitor to the First Order. Hux shows him what happens to those who betray him.





	Traitor

Ben Solo is a traitor. Filthy, disgusting. Hux spits in his face, and Ben merely shuts his eyes as the warm saliva drips down his chin. His busted bottom lip trembles, and Ben dares not peek out at the terrifying man as he bears down on him. A boot to the chest, and he sprawls across the floor. His back meets cold durasteel, and lies there, squeezing his eyes shut so tight he fears they’ll never open again. A boot to the side, and he rolls, curling up in the fetal position. Hux places his foot on his head, holding him down. 

 

“Piece of shit,” he says, that clipped and cutting accent tearing straight to the bone. He hears a lighter click, then the smell of cigarette smoke fills up the room. It’s a small room, aboard a ship, a transport meant for one. Hux had forced him on with a blaster trained at his skull, and now here he is, underneath the man’s heel. 

 

The flag ship destroyed, the fleet falling fast, and the Resistance right outside their windows, Ben knows he won’t survive this. He never planned to survive this. In all honesty, he thought he would die in the first strike, but luck, convenience, or something else had spared him. Sitting on a throne of lies, he’d watched the battle displayed on screens, waiting until the Resistance won. The plans he’d sent to bring down their Dreadnaughts should have worked a lot faster, but the Resistance had chosen a subtler approach. It didn’t matter. In the end, the result would be the same. 

 

Hot ash from the cigarette suddenly falls against his cheek, and Ben quickly wipes it away. The foot on his head disappears, only for a kick to his kidneys to send him into a coughing fit. Pain shoots up his body, and Ben flops over onto his back again. Hux stands over the top of him, a foot on either side, then he bends down and presses his knees into his chest. Flicking ash into his face again, Hux looks him over for a moment. 

 

“Shame,” he whispers, and Ben watches him warily, waiting for whatever cruelty is going to be inflicted on him. “You would have made a beautiful concubine someday, when I took over. I would have kept you leashed by my throne so everyone could see that pretty face.” He pressed the end of the cigarette against Ben’s jawline, and he screams loudly. Hux merely watches with disgust. “You deserve it, bitch.” 

 

The cigarette is thrown to the side, and Ben watches through teary eyes as Hux pulls his belt free and unzips his pants. He knows what’s coming. He’s picked up these thoughts from the man for a long time, since the first time he’d been maskless in front of him. With the war going on over them, their transport essentially a sitting duck, they could be dead any moment. Hux isn’t going to waste the last precious moments of life, and he’s going to get back at Ben for ruining what he’d almost had. 

 

It’s not hard to figure out, at least. But Ben still tries to clamp his mouth shut so that the head of his cock can’t slip in. It’s useless, and Hux forces his thumbs in, holding his mouth open as he thrusts down deep into his throat. He’s never had a cock in his mouth before, and Ben chokes on the hard intrusion. “If you bite me, I’ll cut you up so bad, you little bitch.” Hands grab hold of Ben’s hair, and Hux begins to thrust. 

 

Hux is not kind. He moves his knees up to either side of Ben’s face and fucks his throat mercilessly. Every thrust in causes Ben to gag, gurgle, and slurp around the cock. He’s an utter mess in minutes, spit covering his chin and cheeks, but Hux doesn’t stop. There’s something unhinged in his expression. A cruelty that’s been unleashed by their predicament. He doesn’t have to hold back anymore. There’s nothing left for him to hold onto. In a way, this is the freest that Hux has ever been. 

 

The ship rocks, something hit them on the outside. The zoom of an X-Wing hot on the tail of a TIE Fighter can be heard over the din of the engines, and Hux readjusts himself. There’s a hard look in his eye. He knows he’s not getting out of this alive. Ben knows, too. 

 

Ben feels a thumb hooking into his mouth, trying to pry it open further, and he whines in pain as Hux’s cock slams further back into his throat. “I was going to be everything,” the man spews over him, red in the face as he fucks his throat. “I was going to have everything. You took my throne! And now you’ve taken everything else!” He pulls his cock out, and Ben barely has time to register the fist that pummels down against his face. 

 

There’s a sickening crack, blood flows free from his broken nose, and the punches don’t stop coming. Harder and harder, his eyes, his nose, his jaw, all targets for the deluge from above. He’s crying, crying through blood, unable to breathe through his nose anymore, and he opens his mouth to suck in a desperate breath. Hux’s cock gets there first. 

 

Slamming back in, Hux pins Ben’s head down and thrusts his hips violently. Each thrust bangs the back of his skull against metal, the press of balls hits him in the chin. He can’t breathe. The world tilts around him, spinning and spinning, out of all control. He sees the angry face above him before his vision starts to narrow. Blurry around the edges, the sight of the ship, of Hux, the colors bleed together. Ben blinks once, twice. He shuts his eyes, willing to let go entirely. 

 

Hux pulls back, and Ben sucks in a breath of fresh hair, coughing and sputtering as his raw throat aches. He turns his head, blood dripping down from his nose, and he lets excess saliva fall from his mouth, spitting up more to keep himself from choking on it. Hux is off of him, off his chest, and he breathes desperately a few times. Lifting a hand, he smears blood from his nose across his cheek and the back of it, then he tries to look around. His right eye is almost nearly, entirely swollen shut already. His left is slowly getting there.

 

Suddenly, he feels his leggings ripped away from his body, a sharp blade tearing through his tunic. He gasps, looking down, finds Hux settling between his legs. “N-no,” he says, only to have Hux thrust into him without second thought. Tearing, he can feel it tearing him up, the thickness of his cock so deep inside of him without any warning. He cries even harder, violated, grasping at the floor with useless hands. He digs his nails in so hard he feels the ends start to chip. 

 

Leaning over him, Hux presses the cold blade against his throat, and Ben looks away, trying desperately to blink through the swelling, to breath even as the blade presses harder. “I’ve wanted to make you my bitch for some time now,” he says. “Thought about having you under me, taking my cock.” Grunting, Hux moves his hips, and Ben feels sparks of pain travel up his spine. 

 

His entire body is tense now, and though he had accepted his inevitable death, he never wished for this. Hux doesn’t take long to finish inside of him. He must know that there isn’t time to savor this. And he comes inside, making Ben cry harder as the hot fluid pumps inside of him. Naked against the floor now, he reaches down to try and push the man away from him, only to have the blade press closer to his jugular. Ben drops his hands. 

 

“Fucking piece of shit.” Hux stands up, pulling the blade away. He walks away as he tucks it back into his sleeve, then puts his messy cock away. Ben watches him through eyes that are quickly becoming useless. Blood and cum seep out of him, and he reaches down to cover his more intimate regions. Hux doesn’t seem to care. Another blast rocks the ship. Hux merely sways, then reaches out a hand to steady himself against the wall. 

 

They are both silent for a moment, and Ben thinks that maybe the battle is winding down. He thinks that until something else rocks the ship, and he hears an alarm start up overhead. Something about a hull breach, says the automated voice. Their cabin seals up, but it’s only a matter of time now before they’re out of oxygen or someone has blown them to pieces. 

 

“Why did you do it?” Hux asks, suddenly. When Ben looks at him again, he’s removed his jacket and is smoking again. He hadn’t noticed the smell. That’ll just burn up their oxygen faster, he thinks with a bit of sardonic glee. He could say as much. Earn himself a glare. Maybe a boot to the face as well. 

 

“It was the right thing,” he says. Rough voice, his throat aches. Ben works himself to sit up, ignoring the shooting, stabbing pain that travels up his spine with every single movement. He groans, then leans himself up against the opposite wall, one hand still cupping the family jewels and keeping them from sight. “I was always going to go back. Eventually. It was just a matter of time.” 

 

“Traitor,” Hux hisses. “You knew?” 

 

“No. But I should have. I’m a rebel at heart. My mother raised me right.” 

 

A casual conversation with his rapist. But this is hardly the worst thing Hux is. Genocidal murderer, child napper, brainwasher, fascist. Ben is all of these things, too. He’s owning up here, now. Turning over the secrets of their military, turning over the way to win the war, it was the right thing. 

 

“Your mother…” Hux laughs, and there’s something maniacal about it. Something unhinged. “Your mother is a bitch.” Hux kicks at the wall, then takes another drag of the cigarette, trying to walk forward, but another blast and he stumbles as the ship shakes around them. 

 

Ben shakes his head. “The First Order was in the wrong, and I couldn’t let them gain power.” He shrugs. “I’ve lived a lie for much, much too long. Maybe, maybe the Force put me here for a reason. Maybe I am here, specifically to take down the Order. Allowing the First Order to flourish would be...terrible for the Galaxy. I was supposed to do this, even with all the pain and suffering I caused to get here. This needed to happen.” 

 

“The First Order needed to win,” Hux hisses, and he starts walking forward. Ben ducks his head, rubbing the pad of his finger over the burn on his jawline, watching the tip of his cigarette closely. He’s willing to take a beating, but Hux seems to want to inflict pain for no other reason than petty revenge. Ben tries to shift, but his body screams in protest. He feels like there’s a hot rod of steel shoved up inside him. 

 

Hands grip his hair, turning his face out again. Ben looks up and sees the end of the cigarette in between the man’s lips. And Hux jerks his cock out, stroking it over and over until it’s hard once again. He thinks that the man should have a longer refractory period, but every thought goes silent when it’s pressed against his lips again. He can’t keep him out, and Hux slams that cock into him again. His head hits back against the wall. One hand grips his hair as Hux’s hips power into him, harder and harder. 

 

Ben cries, tears and blood leaking down his face and clogging up his senses. He can’t handle the way it feels, unable to breathe or see right. He can feel the general’s body heat up against him and the heavy cock on his tongue. Down his throat, shoving down into the tender and aching spot that Hux had already destroyed. His jaw hangs open. The fight is long since gone out of him. “Such a little bitch,” Hux says, and Ben feels more ash rain down onto his shoulder. There’s still a bit of fabric covering the skin there. He keeps cupping his intimate parts, not wanting to be seen like this. 

 

The drag of the cock against his tongue, the taste of Hux, makes him gag again, and Hux pulls out and comes on his face. The release is hot, in his eyes and spurting onto his cheeks and into his hair. He hates how it feels. 

 

The ship rocks again, and Hux sinks to the ground in front of him, still pinning his hair back. Ben struggles to open his eyes, gasping for air. He slowly realizes that they’re running out. There isn’t much time left. What he sees now will probably be his last. It’s Hux’s face, blurry and close. A scowl, the burning tip of a cigarette, his hair falling out of its careful style. 

 

“You and your rebel scum win, Ren. Solo. Organa. Whatever you want to go by. But...you won’t get to see any of it.” Hux gasps, then tosses the cigarette down, leaning forward a bit, his own head dipping low. He’s close enough now that Ben should be able to smell the pomade in his hair, but is nose is so clogged with blood and snot he can’t. “But, at least you were a good fuck for the last moment.” Hux’s head falls on his shoulder, wheezing. His body slumps. Ben’s slumps back against the wall. Lying together, Ben closes his eyes and listens as Hux’s breathing slows and eventually comes to a stop. His own body manages to keep going, even as he knows there’s barely any air left. The Force, he supposes, extending his life for those crucial seconds. 

 

He knows that the general is dead, and that’s a peace that he can hold onto as he goes off to death. He keeps his eyes shut, letting his lips pull up into a smile. The crack in his bottom lip from Hux’s first punch reopens, painful, but he doesn’t care. He can’t feel anything anymore. He can’t feel the pain. He can’t feel the damage done to his body. He’s drifting. The dead weight of Hux’s body is against him, and Ben accepts his fate. Darkness rises to meet him. He goes gently, accepting what he is and what he’s done. 

 


End file.
